


TEN TO MIDNIGHT

by spicyshimmy



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Alternate Ending, Birthday, M/M, Rimming, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-24
Updated: 2012-06-24
Packaged: 2017-11-08 11:14:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/442604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spicyshimmy/pseuds/spicyshimmy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shepard survives, Kaidan's technically five years older, and it's important to make him feel good on his birthday. Really, really good on his birthday. <i>‘Everybody says you look younger,’ Shepard pointed out that morning, bringing him breakfast in bed. To this day, a bowl of crunchy Blast-O’s was still romantic. ‘I’m serious. And you know I’m telling the truth because I couldn’t lie about that holiday sweater, remember?’</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	TEN TO MIDNIGHT

Technically, Kaidan was only three years older. But Shepard wouldn’t have come this far or lived this long if he believed too much in technicalities.

Though they didn’t bring it up—ever, really—Shepard _had_ been dead for two years. And when you were dead, some personal wisdom Shepard chose not to lead with while he was acting TO, time didn’t matter anymore. _Technically_ , if you wanted to use that word, it stopped.

So Kaidan was more like five years older. And there were some days—birthdays, for example—when they had to be reminded of that.

‘Everybody says you look younger,’ Shepard pointed out that morning, bringing him breakfast in bed. To this day, a bowl of crunchy Blast-O’s was still romantic. ‘I’m serious. And you know I’m telling the truth because I couldn’t lie about that holiday sweater, remember?’

‘Uh-huh,’ Kaidan replied. ‘How could I forget? Actually… It’s probably better if you don’t remind me.’

‘Hey, now eat your cereal before it gets soggy,’ Shepard said, a hand on Kaidan’s thigh under the sheets through the whole meal.

Birthdays weren’t the same as anniversaries, obviously, even if they were—again, technically—kind of the same thing. Shepard hadn’t been used to celebrating either until he started having someone to celebrate them for and mostly with, which was the part that made them mean anything at all.

Sort of like that old saying—if a soldier gets lost in space and there’s nobody around to hear him breathing, does he make a sound?

Shepard left the bed and shaved, nicking his jaw once, then putting some of that quick-heal medigel on it right away. Supplies weren’t as tight now as they had been five years ago and, a senator had pointed out, having luxuries was what made humanity feel human.

‘And I always thought doing something good every day was what made us human,’ Shepard said. ‘Hell, maybe you’re right. Maybe that’s what makes asari asari and I’ve got my races mixed up again. Good thing I never mistook a hanar for a turian; now _that’d_ be awkward.’

‘Shepard,’ Hackett told him, ‘most times, I think I liked you better _before_ you decided you could be funny.’

It didn’t sound like an order, just a conversation piece. And Hackett’s hard face might’ve come closer to remembering how to grin at the time. That night, Shepard told Kaidan that Hackett thought he was funny and Kaidan said Hackett shouldn’t encourage him. Then, Kaidan rolled onto Shepard’s lap so Shepard could touch him in all his favorite places.

His hips. The dimples in the small of his back. The line of elastic above the curve of his ass.

_Shepard_ hadn’t liked himself more before he decided he could be funny. Because that was before he decided he could be happy, too, falling asleep with Kaidan’s arm under him and waking up in the exact same position—instead of shifting things up all night, like _that_ was what’d finally make him feel comfortable.

No big surprise when it didn’t.

‘So,’ Shepard said as Kaidan got dressed, his own shirt still untucked while he went after a pair of clean socks, ‘any big plans for the day? Students going to throw you a surprise party and thank you for being such a loveable hardass?’

‘That’s the thing about surprise parties,’ Kaidan replied. ‘You’re not _supposed_ to know about them.’

He was talking about Shepard’s fortieth birthday, that maybe Shepard should’ve dropped the old instincts at the door instead of figuring he still needed to see everything coming. But it wasn’t something Shepard could just turn on and off when he wanted to. Chances were, it was always going to be just a little bit necessary.

‘Yeah.’ Shepard pulled on his first sock. ‘You’re never going to let me live that one down, are you?’

‘I’m never going to plan a surprise party for you again, that’s for sure.’ There was a smile in Kaidan’s voice, sweetening it up enough that Shepard wanted to kiss him. He told himself _later_ and tucked in his shirt, then let Kaidan go in after him and smooth it out: hands running down Shepard’s back and over his sides, then settling right in front.

‘Uh-uh,’ Shepard said. ‘You get to unwrap your presents later.’

‘See you tonight,’ Kaidan agreed, kissing him like the world’s biggest tease on the corner of his mouth.

The rest of the day Shepard spent making himself hoarse on orders, falling into something natural—something like, Shepard sometimes thought, being Anderson. Not that Shepard wanted to be made admiral and he’d never be known as anything other than commander, but it was the voice, not the title, that meant something. If he’d learned anything, Shepard hoped it was that.

Then, he was on the line with Liara for a while.

‘Tell me again how this damn tie works,’ he said, putting her on speaker so he had both hands to wrestle with it. ‘Loop it over or under? …You know I was number one in all my training courses once, right? Top of my class. Graduated with a _promising_ on my record and everything.’

‘Too bad they never taught you how to fight a tie, then,’ Liara replied. ‘What sort of knot do you want? I have a long list of options in front of me right now.’

They settled on Windsor and Shepard didn’t even choke himself. He picked Kaidan up and they kissed in the ride over. And the restaurant they had reservations at was one of those real nice, multi-cultural places that senators and diplomats went to when they were in the neighborhood—with food Shepard didn’t bother pronouncing, just saying ‘Me, too,’ after Kaidan ordered.

‘You know, I really love you,’ Kaidan said, menus taken by their salarian waiter, Shepard tugging at his Windsor.

‘Only thing I do know, Kaidan,’ Shepard agreed.

Kaidan asked him if he’d done that tie all by himself, and Shepard asked if step by step instructions from Liara counted as all by himself. ‘Because,’ Shepard added, ‘that’s usually how I do things.’

Not that he’d been the one who enlisted Liara about things they could do in bed that wouldn’t be a strain on Shepard’s body during recovery. Shepard stopped thinking about the conversation after imagining Kaidan and Liara sitting together over hot drinks discussing how to make physical therapy appealing to a guy as stubborn as Shepard was.

Liara was great. And Shepard only needed to know _his_ reasons as to why.

They made it halfway through the meal before Senator Zamora came over to talk to them about irrigation for a while, until Shepard managed to get rid of her without causing an incident Hackett wouldn’t be happy about—and a reporter did snap some pictures of them, probably while Shepard had something halfway into his mouth. ‘Sorry about that,’ Shepard said, reaching for his napkin with one hand, for Kaidan’s hand with the other.

Kaidan rubbed Shepard’s knuckles with his thumb. ‘Sorry about what?’ he asked. ‘Dinner was pretty great, by the way.’

They kissed some more on the ride home. Shepard’s tie was open all the way by the time they got out and headed up the stairs, the top button on his collar undone.

It wasn’t a party. It was just a date. There were five messages on Shepard’s omnitool and he didn’t turn it on to check them even though he knew what the flashing meant, and Kaidan said that was the best gift he’d ever been given, seriously—not even joking.

‘So I didn’t need to go all out on the flowers?’ Shepard asked. ‘Damn.’

Liara always suggested roses, red ones. And since they weren’t actually an endangered flora—not yet—Shepard went for them every time. They were tried and true, like some people around the place he could name.

Roses and a promise they’d go back to Nanaimo sometime soon for a weekend away from everything. But a voucher for later wasn’t a birthday gift for now and Liara had shot down the first idea, which was anything to do with Blasto, while Garrus had suggested getting Kaidan ‘a nice, beautiful new gun.’

Shepard’s friends were only helpful in specific situations. For the rest, they were as useful as hiring a krogan to work in a china shop.

So Shepard had to improvise, a new photograph on their desk, in a sleek titanium frame. ‘Same stuff they put my knee back together with,’ Shepard said, while Kaidan picked it up to get a closer look. ‘It was either that or the stuff our rings were made out of, but I thought the second thing was a little much. Anyway, tomorrow there’s going to be a six pack of Canadian lager with your name on it and Hackett sent over some steak.’

‘Now you’re just showing off,’ Kaidan said.

But Shepard knew he liked it from the way his lips were twisting, tugged to one side, swallowing the grin and the happiness and the old ache.

Technically, Shepard had taken up photography during the invasion, just something to help a stranger out with a documentary he was making. Truths that needed to be told were as important as wars that needed to be won, Shepard thought at the time, turning off the flash to find some honesty on the Citadel. But he picked it up again—almost like a hobby, even though Shepard never thought he’d be a man who had those—when they went to Nanaimo the first time.

If only because there was nothing better to do except for worry about what was happening outside, and doing PT more hours out of the day than he was sleeping.

That was where the picture came from. After instructions from Joker on how to work out the timer, Shepard managed to take one of the two of them in the hammock, Kaidan’s hair messy, Shepard looking about as tired as he’d felt.

‘Not my best angle,’ he said.

‘Can’t believe my hair,’ Kaidan replied. ‘It’s perfect, though. Tonight… It’s been perfect.’

And it wasn’t even over, Shepard thought.

He pulled his tie free of the collar and dropped it on the bedside table, turning off the lamp on his way. Then, there was nothing but two men and the moonlight, standing between the bed and the window and, beyond that, an actual view of the bay. ‘I’m not done,’ Shepard admitted. ‘It’s still pretty early. And we’re not that old, not yet.’

‘Thanks.’ Kaidan’s mouth twisted again, still the good way. ‘Thanks for reminding me. Really.’

He’d helped Shepard that morning with tucking his shirt in; Shepard returned the favor by doing the opposite for Kaidan now. Button after button came away slow and Shepard pushed the shirt off Kaidan’s arms, lingering to feel the muscle in them. He knew exactly what shapes the hair on Kaidan’s chest and stomach made but he lingered on them, too, retracing every step he’d already taken. He stopped at Kaidan’s belly and felt it swell with a quick breath, then slid his hands around to the small of Kaidan’s back, thumbs hooked into the waistband of his pants.

‘Used to talk with Liara about how good you looked from the back,’ Shepard said against Kaidan’s earlobe, kissing his jaw a couple of times. ‘Pretty much every day. It wasn’t very professional of me.’

‘Yeah,’ Kaidan replied. ‘ _And_ you should’ve said something.’

Shepard shrugged, loose, hands rounding over Kaidan’s ass and giving the muscle—still firm, still hard, still thick—a sort-of squeeze. He did it again right after, fingers hooked under the bottom curve, spreading the cheeks just a little as he went. Only his knuckles brushed in-between, against the shadows Shepard knew by heart, but he didn’t do anything other than feel it.

‘Well,’ Shepard said, ‘I’m not just looking anymore.’

Kaidan chuckled, moaned. ‘…I appreciate it.’

Shepard let them stay like that for a little while, Kaidan’s feet shifting wider along the floor, pants around his ankles. Words didn’t let a man know he still had it; action did. And hands that were all about action, hands that were all about Kaidan’s ass.

‘You and Liara, huh?’ Kaidan asked, breathless, his erection pressing into Shepard’s hip.

‘James got drunk one time and brought it up, too,’ Shepard replied. ‘I wouldn’t blame him if he _still_ thinks about it. But if he mentions it again, I’ll have to knock his lights out.’

‘Jesus,’ Kaidan said, but it was because Shepard had given him a good, hard squeeze, not because of the dumb soldier posturing that Shepard would never completely grow out of.

_Yeah,_ he remembered. Kaidan usually liked that. He liked being guided back to the bed, too, and sometimes he liked pushing Shepard down onto it hard, but tonight was about him knowing he didn’t have to fight for it, only when he felt like fighting—which happened to all of them every now and then. Shepard turned Kaidan in his arms and got him on the bed on his knees and then he stopped to enjoy the view: the bay out the window at his back, Shepard’s shadow falling over Kaidan’s body.

‘You feel that?’ Shepard asked.

‘Yeah,’ Kaidan said.

He didn’t tremble or waver or anything like that. And Shepard didn’t undo his fly, hard as he was for the man in front of him.

Some things had to change but some things never would, no matter how many birthday dinners they shared with Shepard doing his best to enjoy his steak on the rare side.

The mattress sank under his knees as he kneeled against it, right at Kaidan’s back. He touched Kaidan’s ass again, palming over the shape, while Kaidan pushed back against his hands. Flexing; tensing; clenching. Those muscles really were something and Shepard bowed his head against them, breath hot, wetting his lips with his tongue. It ran over the curve of one cheek, almost by accident; Kaidan actually whimpered, this sob of relief Shepard had never heard.

‘God,’ Kaidan said, ‘ _Shepard_ —’

Shepard licked him again, and then mouthed down to where he should’ve been all along. When his tongue got to Kaidan’s balls and the blood at his temples was too, too hot, he didn’t think of it like a final push, touching Kaidan’s erection with the hand he wasn’t using to brace himself on Kaidan’s thigh.

The top was sticky already. Shepard ran his thumb around the head and pushed it into the slit once and to be honest, he’d never felt better, not even the first time Kaidan took off Shepard’s briefs with his teeth.

And that was a good night. One of the best, even.

Kaidan trembled and Shepard pictured his face: his lips parted, his cheeks flushed, his hair already messy from all the times he pressed it to the bed. Shepard would’ve taken a picture of that face if he could, but in the end, he didn’t want to share it with anybody, and he didn’t need the help to remember what it looked like anytime he closed his eyes.

It looked like home. Sweat and skin and something hot just _living_ beneath. Shepard rolled Kaidan’s balls against the heel of his palm and touched them at the back with his tongue, kissed them, and Kaidan came pretty much right away, with Shepard’s name in his throat.

He didn’t even have to say it. Shepard knew what it was.

Kaidan dropped onto his stomach after that and Shepard stretched out on top of him, giving his knee a chance to loosen up.

‘You’re playing a dangerous game, Shepard,’ Kaidan said, voice sex-rough, even deeper than the whiskey they’d had at the end of dinner. ‘Thinking I’ll be so damn happy I won’t notice what you did to your knee.’

‘It’s still ten to midnight,’ Shepard replied. ‘And I’m celebrating a birthday right now. You think you could wait to lecture me until tomorrow, Kaidan?’

‘Yeah.’ Kaidan’s back lifted, then fell with one unsteady breath. _I did that_ , Shepard thought, and then, _Happy birthday, Kaidan._ ‘I guess, since it’s a special occasion… I guess I can.’ 

**END**


End file.
